


Give me toothaches just from kissing me

by Jay_the_bird



Series: At the final breath [2]
Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Dancing, Gals being pals, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23637310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_the_bird/pseuds/Jay_the_bird
Summary: in this spin off, I try and convince you, the reader, to ship Kitty and Mary. there is dancing.
Relationships: Kitty/Mary (Ghosts TV 2019)
Series: At the final breath [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701664
Comments: 15
Kudos: 43





	Give me toothaches just from kissing me

**Author's Note:**

> This pair really need a ship name. all I can come up with is Fancy Flapjack, but I'm not convinced. Thoughts?  
> Anyway, this was pleasure to write, particularly when I had the Kitty playlist on repeat in the background  
> Might be writing more about these two, idk
> 
> -Jay

Give me toothaches just from kissing me

The cold night sky is shining like it’s been frosted. Button House is alive with glittering guests, dresses sparkling like diamonds, suits sharp and sleek. Children dart amongst the chair legs, dodging shoes and canes and legs. Upon the table-tops, delicate china plates are piled high with all manner of food. Each year, this Christmas celebration gets grander as Lord and Lady Button climb higher up the social ladder. Mary has learnt not to marvel at the sights and sounds of their parties. She has seen the Button name rise through the upper echelons of society, but she knows that it can’t last forever. Rumours haunt Lord Button wherever he goes, and while Lady Button pretends not to hear them, even she is getting suspicious. 

The feeling of Kitty’s hand is intoxicating, warm on her wrist as she drags Mary outside onto the grass, away from anyone else. They wind between the living people, avoiding them with a skill born of years of practice. 

“I don’ts know how to dance!” Even in her own head, Mary sounds head over heels for this girl. 

“I’ll teach you then!” Kitty is as enthusiastic as ever, pulling Mary close. Too close, whisper the voices in the back of Mary’s head. She is too swept up in the joy of it to care, in the way they fit together, her hand on Kitty’s back as they spin around in a dance that nobody has ever had to learn the steps to. The stars whirl overhead, and Mary thinks it might just be in imitation of the two of them, giggling breathlessly, dancing in the open air with nothing more than the strains of some distant melody to guide them. She tries to spin Kitty under her arm like she’s seen the fancy gentlemen do, and it goes quite well if Kitty’s delighted laugh is anything to go by. 

At some point, Mary hikes up her skirts and shows Kitty how to dance a jig, rapping her heels on the frozen grass and clicking her tongue to imitate the sound that they should be making. She delights in the peals of laughter echoing in the night air, in the way Kitty gasps for air as though she’s forgotten she doesn’t need to breath. 

This, she thinks, is surely as good as it can get. Somewhere, there is a piano tinkling out a simple tune. Background music. It’s almost theatre, almost a play, except there are no plays about women like Mary. 

Then they stop. Breathing hard in the open air, looking at each other like there is nothing else to see. As if there is nothing else in this moment that is worth anything compared to each other.

The moment after that, she is kissing Kitty. It’s gentle, and soft, and so warm that Mary almost forgets that she’s dead, and then it’s over. 

“I think I love you.” Kitty says, and Mary has to remind herself that she is not like the girls in the village, that this is not a cruel joke. She knows it can’t be, not here, not with Kitty, because Kitty wears her heart on her sleeve and always has, and Mary has been falling in love with her since the day they met.

“I think I love you too.” Mary replies softly, brushing her fingers against Kitty’s. 

The night sky shines like it has been frosted. While the stars whirl above, fixed in the sky, they dance below, swaying gently to the distant strains of a joyful violin. It’s almost like a scene from a play, Kitty thinks, except no play could ever match up to this feeling.


End file.
